


Fourteen Minutes

by a_little_chai



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: And not on crack, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Autistic Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan is a good bro, Drabble, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e15 Revelations, Episode: s04e07 Memoriam, Gen, I promise, Ignore tags, Panic Attacks, Reid's in it, Sensory Overload, Stimming, Team as Family, The best of bros, Totally stream of consciousness, it's late at night, of course, send help, statistics, with references to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_little_chai/pseuds/a_little_chai
Summary: Summerlin, Nevada is approximately fourteen minutes away from Las Vegas. Take the US 95 up a few miles north, a minute along the Nevada 613, and you're there.William Reid couldn't take fourteen minutes to see his ten year old son.(aka: a tag to right after Reid learns that his father was fourteen minutes away from him the entire time and he has a "minor" breakdown)
Relationships: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid
Comments: 16
Kudos: 369





	Fourteen Minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Четырнадцать минут](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363783) by [fandom Criminal Minds 2020 (fandom_Criminal_Minds_2020)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Criminal_Minds_2020/pseuds/fandom%20Criminal%20Minds%202020), [Seli_Creston](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seli_Creston/pseuds/Seli_Creston)



> Hello folks! I wrote this quickly and it's late at night, so just know that all warnings are below like always and have fun!
> 
>  **EDIT 6/2/20:** This story has gotten way more response than I ever expected for something this short. I just want to thank everyone who has kudo'd and commented, you're all amazing.

"It's been years, but he's probably still at that old firm in Summerlin." 

Summerlin. Summerlin, Nevada. Population: 46,644. Part of it was within Las Vegas town limits, part left in the unincorporated Clark County. Oft considered an affluent, middle class neighborhood. 

He knew every town in Nevada. Almost every town in the continental US. And Summerlin - Summerlin was fourteen minutes down the road. 

"He's been in town this whole time?" 

His voice is steady. Somehow. Like his life hasn't just crashed around him because Summerlin was only fourteen minutes away. 

Fourteen minutes. 

_Fourteen._

He said something to Morgan. Off the 95, ten minutes away (he's rounding, he hates rounding, but _fourteen_ , fourteen. The number's burning through his brain and it hurts so much and he barely registers getting in the car and he knows some thing's wrong, he's breathing too fast and Morgan's saying something but-) 

Fourteen minutes away from their little grey house with books on every shelf. Fourteen minutes away from the roads he had biked along and the school he had attended. Fourteen minutes away from the life he had lived day in, day out, for eighteen years. The life he had lived, alone, with only his mother to take care of him. And William had known, he _had_ to have known, that she couldn't really take care of him anymore. 

Fourteen minutes. 

A sonnet has fourteen lines. A stone contains fourteen American pounds. A cuboctahedron is a polygon with fourteen sides. Fourteen is the atomic number for silicone and the approximate weight of an atom of carbon. 

Summerlin is approximately fourteen minutes away from his little childhood home in Las Vegas. Take the US-95 north then the Nevada 613 and you're there. 

You're there. 

His father was fourteen minutes away the whole time. 

He was ten years old when he first left. When he first left with all the money to pay the bills still in his bank accounts. When he left leaving nothing behind but an admittance to his cowardice and a short note simply stating _'I'm sorry, Spencer_ ,' written hastily on the back of one of his business cards. 

His mom got worse, after that. Her meds weren't working as well and she started to take him on trips, trips to get away from the spies. They'd hide out in motel rooms for days, the windows blocked with newspaper. He'd spend the afternoon reading the classifieds lit by the glowing sun, hoping that there was some message from his father in there (after the fourth trip and the first visit from CPS, he stopped looking). 

Mom lost her tenure at the University. His teachers started to ask him if everything was all right at home, knowing damn well that it wasn't (the bruises he constantly had showed that). And he was fourteen minutes away the whole time. 

His dad had a car. A 1970 Chevrolet that was starting to sputter and die. It would've taken less time than his commute to work to go check on him. And instead he was left with the absent father and a sick mother and no way to pay the bills. 

His father was fourteen minutes away when he figured out how to pay those, too. 

And now he was twenty-five, with a real job and real friends and a real family. And Morgan was talking to him, asking him what was wrong as they sat in the car feet away from Riley Jenkin's father and he couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't admit that his father had hated him so much that he left and moved _fourteen fucking minutes_ to the other side of town. That his father kept the same job and the same car, but left behind his wife and only son. That he hated him that much. 

So he just pushed his nails deeper into his palms, struggled with the parts of words stuck in the back of his throat and tried desperately to ignore the thoughts and the light and the clanging _everything_ that was pushing against him. Rocked slightly back and forth in the back of a government SUV because everything was falling apart. Listened to his friend (his brother, really) talk to him in that way Morgan always did when he was stressed and couldn't find the words to say he needed help. Focused on the proof that he wasn't worthless. 

Morgan and Rossi had stayed here because they were worried about him. The whole team was back in Quantico ready to work on a twenty year old cold case for him. His mom was safe at Bennington and he didn't have to worry about the bills stacked on the dining room table anymore. 

He didn't have to read the classifieds hoping that someone would care that he was drowning. 

There was a hand on his shoulder and the touch added another sound to the cacophony that was banging in his head but it also started the decrescendo. For once, he didn't flinch away from Morgan, instead forcing his rocking to slow and his breathing to calm and the thoughts to run at a natural pace. He focused on the real world, not the symphony in his brain. 

"You alright, pretty boy?" 

The words were still stuck in fragments, refusing to leave his larynx, so he nodded. And he looked down at the hand now covering his own shaking one settled on his lap, and knew. 

Knew he was worth more than the fourteen minutes it would've taken.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:
> 
> -Discussion of child abandonment and child endangerment  
> -Depiction of autism and stimming by a non-autistic author. Please, if anyone finds any issue with my depiction of Reid in this, don't hesitate to tell me. I'll be open to all advice!
> 
> Please kudo or comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> **~You are loved, and never alone. We are here for you, and you are enough.~**  
> 


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